


It's Always the People I Love / Everyone I Love

by MarcosparentswwerejellyFish



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Read at Your Own Risk, sorry - Freeform, this work has been dropped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:25:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcosparentswwerejellyFish/pseuds/MarcosparentswwerejellyFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jeans girlfriend Maria dies in a car accident, he becomes a social recluse, and constantly leaves messages on her phone. But one day, someone picks up (A certain Marco Bodt) and encourages Jean to start living his life again. What happens when that life needs Marco in it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

"What?" I felt like I hadn't just been punched in the gut, I felt like someone had taken a sword, cut me open, and then mutilated my insides. No way could this be happening. This couldn't be possible! There was no way that Maria could be dead. There was no way, that on the most important night of my life, the night that I could have (and probably would have) become a famous singer, that Maria could have been hit by an out of control Titan Supply Co. truck on her way here. It just wasn't right!

I backed away from my mom. "You must be joking. Why would you joke about something like this? Maria's gonna be here in just a few minutes." I felt my back hit the wall, and I slid down it until I was nearly curled in on myself. My vision began to blur, and I felt water sliding down my face. My mom knelt in front of me and placed her hand on my shoulder. I shied away from it. Why wasn't she conceding and saying that it was a joke? It had to be a joke, right?

"Honey," She said, "Honey I'm so sorry." I noticed that there were tears spilling down her cheeks too. "Do you want to go see her?" I nodded slowly, finally coming to terms with the fact that she wasn't joking, and my girlfriend of three years, whom I had been planning to propose to tonight, was dead or dying. I let my mom wrap her arms around my shoulders, and gently guide me into a standing position, and from there, out the door. In the car ride over, a strange numbness came over me. I still felt the pain, but it was oddly muted.

Once there, we sat in the waiting room for a little bit, and then a sad looking nurse came over and led us to a room that seemed somewhat secluded from the rest of the hospital. My mom entered first, and two feet into the room she stopped and backed up. "Oh Sweetie...." She said, "Maybe you shouldn't..."

I shook my head and stepped into the room. I knew that I would regret it if I didn't. As soon as my eyes fell on Maria, I felt like I was about to throw up. If it hadn't been for the curly auburn hair and the silver necklace I had given to her for our two year anniversary, I wouldn't have recognized her. Her face was covered with bandages, and what wasn't covered, was bruised an unnatural shade of bluish purple that would have been a beautiful color anywhere else. She was wearing a thin cotton gown that hospitals provided. And all at once, the numbness left, and I was left with a gaping hole in my chest. I sat beside her and grasped her hand. "Hey Maria..." I started "What happened? We were gonna go get ice cream after the gig, and then..." I took a deep breath. "And then I was gonna propose to you." My voice cracked and something inside me, something that had somehow managed to remain intact until now, shattered into a thousand pieces. Tears poured down my face, and I started unashamedly sobbing. 

"Hey...Jean..." A voice croaked. My head snapped up, and met the uncovered, pure blue eye of my girlfriend. "I love you. Jean, I love you so much, and when I die." I opened my mouth to protest. "Don't get hung up on me. ...Move on." I stared at her. I had honestly thought that she was already dead. I shook my head. For the first time, I noticed the steady beeping of one of the machines hooked up to her. And as soon as I noticed it, the beeps started slowing down, ...slower....slower.... And then

_Beeeeeeeeeep_

It flatlined. 

Maria was dead.

I blinked.

The tears stopped. 

The feeling stopped. 

I was numb.

Maria was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the terrible writing and lack of introduction. Im sorry, I'm sorry.  
> Next Chapter: Jean meets Marco and spills his guts.


	2. Meeting Marco Bodt (part 1)

_The day after Maria died, I left my first message on her phone. And each day after that, I would call her, listen to her sweet voice saying: "Sorry I couldn't pick up right now, I must be busy, please leave a message." And then leave a message. It became a habit. I would tell her about my day, maybe make up a story, sing for her a little bit, and tell her how much I missed her. It became necessary for me to function. I couldn't sleep if I didn't leave a message before going to bed. I became a recluse. My grades dropped, and aside from the messages to Maria, I stopped singing. I stopped talking to my friends. My whole life was centered around leaving messages on her phone, even though I knew she would never hear them. Once I finished high school--which I had barely managed, I had almost gotten held back--Every day became just a gray blur, the same routine. I stopped telling Maria about my day, I stopped singing to her. I would call, tell her how much I missed her, and sometimes, I would just cry into the phone. After a while, summer break ended, and everyone went off to college. But I didn't. I stayed home, listlessly surfing the Internet, and calling Maria. About a quarter of the way through the school year, I called Maria's phone, already preparing what I was going to say when_

"Hello, this is Marco Bodt, to whom am I speaking?"

I nearly dropped my phone.

"W....who the hell are you!?"

"Ummm, you're the one who called." He said, sounding very confused.

"Why do you have Maria's phone!?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know who Maria is, but this is very much my phone. I just got it today, so I'm guessing they gave me a number similar to hers."

"No," I said, almost feeling offended that they had given this complete stranger Maria's phone number. "This is the number she had."

"I'm sorry, 'had'?"

"Yes, 'had'" I said impatiently, "She died a few months ago." 

"I'm so sorry." The guy sounded distraught.

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault." I could feel myself starting to tear up. "Unless you happened to be driving an out of control Titan Supply Co. truck..." I stopped talking, hoping that he hadn't heard my voice crack.

"No..." He said. And then, "I don't mean to be insensitive, but what's your name?"

"Jean Kirstein." 

"I'm Marco Bodt."

I nodded, then remembered that he couldn't see me, and made an affirmative grunt.

"You sound really upset, have you talked to anyone?"

"...No. I've kind of become anti social, stopped going to school." Wait, why was I telling this to a complete stranger? After months of not talking to anyone, I was telling everything important about my life to someone who I didn't even know. It was weird, but there was just something about his voice that made me think that I could tell him I was a mass murderer, and he would still be nice and try to help me out.

"Is there anyone you can talk to?" Marco asked.

"Not anymore."I sighed. This was starting to get really depressing, but I didn't feel like crying anymore, so that was good.

"I know this may sound strange, because you only just met me, and you don't even know what I look like, but you can talk to me...if you want." Oh. So much for not feeling like crying. Suddenly there was a huge lump in my throat and my vision was blurring. I sniffed. 

"Hey," His voice was really soft, "Are you alright?"

And then it happened. I started bawling like a baby, I held the phone away, hoping that he couldn't hear, but he did, I could hear home desperately trying to console me. This was so strange, I was crying to a complete stranger. The only time anyone had ever seen me cry was when Maria died.

After a while, I stopped crying, and started talking to Marco. I told him about how I had been planning to propose to her, and I had been preparing to launch my career as a singer, and then my mom had told me that Maria had been hit my a truck, how Maria had told me not to get hung up over it, but I couldn't help it, and did anyways. How my life had it rock bottom and how I had gotten to where I was today. Marco was a good listener, and did his best to console me, but he confessed that he had never actually experienced something like this, and couldn't fully sympathize.

Eventually, we shifted to more cheerful topics. Marco told me that he was a senior in high school, I told him that I should be a college freshman, and that, before Maria died, I would have become a musician. Marco asked me to sing for him sometime, when I felt up for it. I told him that I had kind of stopped singing, he sounded disappointed. After a while, he had to go, and I was left feeling more cheerful then I had in months. 

Suddenly there was a noise at my door. "Jean sweetie," My mom poked her head in. "Who was that?" 

"Marco"

She stared at me

"Who's that?"

"A newly acquired friend."

"You didn't meet him in the Internet did you?" She inquired sharply.

"No I didn't, and not all people you meet on the Internet are bad, you know."

She gave me a doubtful look and closed the door.

The next day, I called Marco again, saying: "Hey, I'm sorry to bother you, but is it alright if I talk to you again?"

"No, it's fine, but I have to go in a few minutes."

"Where are you going?"

"Swim practice. I'm on the swim team."

We talked like that for a while, and I actually found myself chuckling a couple times, which hadn't happened since Maria died. Eventually he had to go to swim practice, and I went back to surfing the internet. This pattern continued for almost two weeks, and one day, Marco said:

"Maybe you should go out and do something."

It took a second for me to register what he had said.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said maybe you should go out and do something. Like go to the store, or the library or go get a cup of coffee, instead of just staying at home and doing nothing." 

"Ha. No way in hell is that happening." It had been so long since I'd been outside I would probably turn to ash in the sunlight. Not to mention blinding everyone around me with my pasty skin.

"Come on! It's not gonna kill you."

"Yes it is. I am going to go outside and turn into a pile of ash in the sunlight."

Marco laughed, and said "Come on. If you don't go out, I will hack this phone, find your address, and drag you outside by your earlobes."

"There are so many things wrong with that threat. How would you know if I went outside or not?"

"My super amazing psychic powers." He chuckled. I snorted. "Fine. I'll go to the coffe shop around the corner."

Marco made some sot of happy 'yay' noise that was strangely adorable. Wait, that sounded really gay. I did not mean that in a gay way. Totally not gay, I swear. I'm still 100% in love with Maria.

"Alright, talk to you later."

"Yeah."

I ended the call and sighed. I was already regretting this. But I didn't want to disappoint Marco, so I pulled on a shirt that I had bought before my muscles had shrunk with malnutrition, hoping that it would hide my jutting bones. It didn't, it just made me look even skinnier, but I was too lazy to change. I pulled on a pair of jeans that probably used to be skinny jeans, but were now pretty baggy. As I was leaving my room, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror next to my closet, and grimaced. My face was pale and gaunt, and I was sporting some lovely bruise colored bags under my eyes. And I seriously needed to do something about my hair. My hair is generally an undercut with the top died a couple shades lighter, but the undercut had grown out, and there was about an inch of natural hair color at my roots. Not to mention it hadn't been brushed, so it basically looked like I was wearing a mop on my head. I ran a comb through my hair, and being too lazy to do anything about the crappy dye job, opted to shove my hair away from my face with a headband I 'borrowed' from my mom. Once satisfied that I wouldn't be mistaken for an escaped prisoner or an Internet creeper or something (even though I kind of was, what with all the Internet surfing and not leaving my room at all), I took a deep breath and stepped out.

On my way out the door, I encountered my mother, who, upon seeing me, had an expression somewhere between Christmas coming early and pigs flying.

"Honey are you going somewhere?" She asked warily.

"Yeah." I swear to god, she actually squealed. Like, fangirl level squealing. My ears almost started bleeding.

"Well, have fun dear." She said, practically shoving me towards the door as if I wasn't on my way already. 

I waved over my shoulder, grabbed my keys, and scooted out the door. It took me a second to recognize my car after so many months not using it. It took me even longer to remember where the coffee shop I had told Marco I would go to. After I finally remembered, I started the car, and made my way over.  
As I was driving, I saw a lot of people I recognized and a lot of my old haunts. When I saw Connie and Sasha, I was tempted to stop and talk, but I don't think they recognized me, and I didn't want to prolong my venture into the outernet, so I kept driving.

Once I reached the coffee shop, I blanched, it was a lot more populated than I remembered, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to go from zero human interaction (besides the Internet) to ... _this_.

But, not wanting to disappoint Marco, I steeled myself and walked inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished it hurray!  
> Next chapter: Jean meets Marco irl, and shit happens. Hurray!
> 
> Also, I have a tumblr, but I'm too lazy to link it right now...


End file.
